I DO NOT BELONG HERE (HIKING)
Well, sure. A host of pines, a fleeing doe,
A few frogs, mushrooms; all this bores me so.
I walked around the lake, clockwise and back,
And skipped rocks, and tasted tart sumac.
I even caught a frog, and caught another,
And laughed, pressing their lips as they were lovers,
And turned their bloaty bellies to the sun;
And still, of all thoughts, entertaining one.
Alas: this earth is not mine: nor lake, nor wood,
Nor any thing long promised to me good,
Nor work nor love nor friendship is a salve,
But every medicine effects by halves.
I threw my backpack at a fat last apple,
To find it was a soft, worm-eaten handful.
It is not mine. No, none of this is mine:
For I am either Nothing, or Divine.
Luca Gonçales is a self-taught artist living and working in the Downriver area. He works primarily in stone carving.